


All Eyes On Him

by JustaBluebird



Category: American Gods - Neil Gaiman, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-08-05 12:03:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16367456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustaBluebird/pseuds/JustaBluebird
Summary: Skull doesn't remember what he is supposed to be, the god of media. Just that there is something about people paying attention to him that he craves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt: Skull as the god of Media**

Skull craved his days as stuntman. The tricks, the adrenaline. The audience, sitting side by side, all their attention on him. Cheering and clapping for him. Some of them with their phones out, filming each and every stunt he did so they could rewatch them later over and over again. 

Time and attention. Better than… something. It’s really good anyway. Made him feel wanted. Made him feel powerful.

Not like with the mafia. Here he is the lackey, the one even the other Arcobaleno forget about. He can’t help but make a scene sometimes, well every time, just to get those eyes back on him. Even Reborn kicking him into the ground was better than being ignored.

Becoming an Arcobaleno was one of the worst things that ever happened to him. Every year that went by the more miserable and weaker he felt. 

And the mafia is boring! The Arcobaleno mansion doesn't even have a TV! They are so obsessed with their word of mouth rumors and under-the-table dealings that no one even has a favorite TV show, let alone knows the latest ones. It’s not that the mafia doesn’t care about entertainment either. Mafia Land has tons of roller coasters, spas, and beaches, but they don’t have a single movie theater! Most mafioso just stare at him blankly when he makes any sort of pop culture reference. 

He tried to make the mafia bearable. Tried to work on the Carcassa’s branding. Tried to convince people on the power of propaganda campaigns, misinformation, distraction, and temptation. But no one pays attention to him here. He is just the weakest Arcobaleno to them. The civilian. The lackey. 

Being with the mafia makes him feel like he is drowning. Just fading away. 

He really does not belong here. Everyone is so, so, yesterday! And he is tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. Every day, when he is painting on his makeup, he thinks about what he will do once the curse breaks. When he could go back to stunt riding and the world would focus on him again. Worship him again. And the mafia, with their old school ways, would be left in the dust. 

His hands always shake and he can never keep the grin off his face. He _couldn't wait_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked the idea of Skull's stuntman persona being a power that the other Arcobaleno don't properly recognize or utilize. Also, I Iike the idea if Skull being younger than the other Arcobaleno, and another way of saying younger is being of the next generation. Being a god though, even a young one, Skull would actually be older than the others haha.


	2. Chapter 2

The breaking of the curse brought many more questions than it did answers. Reborn, for the longest time had thought that even if there was a way to break the curse, that it would be the end to the story. He would go back to normal, maybe retire, but he never thought it would just be the beginning to another chaotic portion of his life. Or that it would actually happen. The revelations Checker Face snapped out in that final confrontation came out of nowhere for him. The idea that Checker Face was actually an ancient god, that the Arcobaleno existed to prevent the planet from dying. It seemed absurd. Reborn remembered exactly how Checker Face explained it. 

“When the first of you mortals,” Checker Face said. “Barely a spark in your minds and crawling in the mud, saw a wild fire and crumpled next to its warmth. When you had the first, vaguest, thought that without that warmth, that flame, you would surely die, I was born. The concept of dying will. Of flames. Fully formed and doomed to spend my time with _animals_.” He snarled. “I’m the last of the truly elder gods. Your old gods, your new gods.” He glared in the direction of the gathered Arcobaleno. “Are _pathetic_.”

“But why!” Tsuna asked. “Why make the pacifiers? If your really a… god… and hate humans so much, why bother?”

Checker Face snorted. “Do you have any idea what dying will flames are? A powerful fire, that without it, you would die. And what are the pacifiers? Powerful flames, that without them, the planet, and everything on it, will die. Including me! A belief that goes all the way back to the beginning. And you mortals certainly have not made it easy, with all your pollution. The spreading, and quite accurate belief, that the planet is dying faster and faster. And I have to come up with the extra flames to stop that from happening!” He grit his teeth. “So if you care about this planet continuing to exist, in any way shape or form at all, be good little flame actives and sacrifice yourself to the planet.”

Of course, they didn’t actually sacrifice themselves. Tsuna’s plan went off, transferring the Arcobaleno flames into containers that would propagate the flames inside, as long as Bermuda kept an eye on them. The Arcobaleno were no longer needed and were finally, finally, freed from their curse. Checker Face, seeing Tsuna’s plan actually worked, grudgingly accepted the change and left for parts unknown.

Reborn adjusted his hat as he thought back to the whole event. Actual gods? Checker Face implied that there were more. Old gods and new gods. But when your older than the human race, how old would a “new god” be? Verde had barricaded himself into his lab, focusing on both speeding up their growth to adults and experimenting on the “new energy concept” that is belief. Reborn had time to look into things himself.

First step, identify what gods, other than Checker Face, currently exist. 

Second step, figure out who the hell they are. 

He would play it by ear from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be about Skull, but this chapter turned out to be all about Checker Face instead.


	3. Chapter 3

Calling it a breath of fresh air would be an understatement. He stayed till Verde figured out his quick aging formula and took the first experimental dose without fuss. Once the other Arcobaleno were satisfied he was not going to keel over and die from it, and began to demand their own doses, he used their distraction as the perfect opportunity to slip away. 

The aging formula got him back to a lanky teen, good enough to get back into the game. 

Now he was wandering the streets of Milan, surrounded by posters of competing fashion shows, the clicks of tourist cameras, and carefully done up pastry displays - with inflated prices to match of course. It wasn’t the gritty loud circus he still longed for, but it turns out that while he was busy being cursed, circuses had become much less popular. As had traveling shows. 

Movies are always big though, he thought as he paused by a wheatpasted film poster. An action film. Water from rain earlier in the day dripped down the big letters of the leading actors name. Movie stunt work was a possibility, but the the stuntmen never get as much attention as the actors, and that would never do. Perhaps he could act as well?

It tasted like today, still not enough. 

It didn't click till he rested at a coffee shop, sipping a latte with cute cat drawn in the foam that was too hard to resist. There, at another table, was a woman talking to her phone? Filming her food? No, not quite, she was...live blogging. She was talking to several people, telling them about her review of the cafe, influencing them, thanking them for giving her money, their support, for watching her. Faithfully. Every day.

Oh, he thought, a grin spreading across his face, I see. 

\-------------------

Collonello wasn't expecting to find their missing cloud like this. Technically he still had not found him, not the he was really looking. Five months though, and the first hint of Skull took the form of an entire video channel covered in pictures of the cloud. 

Video after video, with titles like ‘Review of the XSRS RedHawk Motorcycle - I crashed it!’, ‘First person motorcycle jump out of plane + camera unboxing’, and ‘Opening fan mail / makeup Q&A!! You asked for it!!’ 

What the hell was the lackey up to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small chapter, was a bit inspired by social media and "influencers".


	4. Chapter 4

Six months and Reborn had figured a few things out. Not as fast as he would have liked, but most people wouldn't have been able to get anything at all. There was no information about gods in the mafia networks. He had to travel the world and do the digging himself, chasing rumors with many dead ends. 

Turns out, old gods refer to basically any god he could find the name of in myths, legends, history books, and religious texts. New gods, on the other hand, refer to the ones born so recently most people didn’t realize their dominions had associated gods at all. Things like the modern stock market, big medicine, and technology.

One passage about a new god from a short personal notebook he managed to snag was particularly interesting to him.

\--------

_Media is perceptions and the spread of those ideas. They take on the form of famous people. It is unclear if they can only take on the form of famous individuals who are dead, or simply have a strong preference._

_One of Media’s most noteworthy skills is rebranding. They can modify an individual to change their nature and the way others perceive them. This skill has been used to alter other gods. For example, Vulcan the god of volcanoes, fire, forge, and metalworking, was rebranded by Media as the god of firearms. This was not a cosmetic change, but one that affected him and his influences greatly. He remained the god of firearms till his death. It seems that Media needs consent in order to rebrand other gods, though it is unclear both if that is indeed the case, and if they need consent from mortals._

_If you have ever rebranded yourself, you have worshiped Media._

\--------

Reborn tilted his hat. Anyone in his line of work knew about the golden age of firearms. Guns made in those years simply worked better. The cut off was abrupt too. One year masterpiece after masterpiece was produced, the next all trash. Guns that literally fell apart when you tried to fire them. Always at the worse movement too. Like they were … Cursed. Reborn hummed.

Killing a god then. Possible, if Vulcan died. That death was not caused by fading from a lack of worship. Also, it seems the gods have great influence on their dominion just from existing. Though perhaps more so when they were actively involving themselves. 

Rebranding though.

‘Reborn’ didn't exist before becoming an Arcobaleno. He had decided to become someone new, even having his memories removed to do so. Something like that... well it could be called a rebranding. 

Reborn smirked. He was suddenly feeling quite faithful. Might as well start with meeting the god he had apparently worshiped.


	5. Chapter 5

Skull sat at a wire outdoor table at a petite cafe he had never been to before. He heard that they did a wonderful raspberry cheesecake, one with a picture of the Eiffel tower on top in white chocolate, and he had to have opinions on it. It was nice to have a break from filming. 

It was calming here, the sound of the busy street, the complaints and sighs of the upset cafe line, who were being turned away as the last slice for the day was handed out. Many of their eyes turned to him in jealousy. 

Skull felt good.

“All of France and your hanging out in a tourist trap cafe like this one. Typical.” Reborn slid into the chair across from Skull. “Colonello said you were running around making videos.”

“Hmmm?” Skull look at Reborn, not phased by him suddenly appearing out of nowhere. “Did you want to see my current rates senpai? I know you love posting your own!” Skull pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, opened it, and held it up for Reborn to see.

_Review your product - $50k-$60k_  
_Positive review of your product - $65k-70k_  
_Negative review of a competitor's product - $75k-85k_

Reborn frowned. “What is that?”

Skull flipped the paper around so he could look at it. “Oh.” He said “I guess you're right senpai, these prices are too low! Why should I take the average price for this sort of thing, when I’m the best at it? I should add a two in front…” Skull frowned “Or maybe an eight? Eight is a better number…”

“No lackey, what is it for?”

Skull blinked at him. “My rates.”

“For _what_?”

“For my videos? I influence people with them? You were just asking about it senpai, did you hit your head or something?”

Reborn glowered and pulled out his gun. “Lacky…”

“Ahh!” Skulls eyes widened and he shoved the paper back into his pocket. “Senpai your too scary!” He paused. His eyes glazed over. Then suddenly Skull leaned forward to look Reborn straight in the eyes, a manic grin on his face. “A lot of people find you scary senpai, you would make way more friends if your personally changed a bit, don't you think?”

Reborn stilled, expressionless.

“And a change in profession too, being a hitman can only take you so far you know.” Skull tapped at the table with his fingers. “In order to gain true fame, to be a name on every person's tongue, you have to do something else. How about ohhh....kidnap extraction?" He tilted his head slightly. "It requires many of the same skills that a hitman does, like tracking, infiltrating, shooting people probably, and retreating. You just have to bring someone with you on your way out. You could be a true blooded hero, saving the president’s first born daughter and her little puppy too.” Skull’s eyes glowed. “Don't you _agree_ senpai?”

Reborn paused. “That sounds like a movie.”

“Well, I do love movies.” Skull's smile softened. He leaned back and ate a spoonful of his cheesecake. 

A few minutes passed, the only sound between them the clinking of Skull’s spoon on his plate. Reborn stood up and walked away. Skull watched him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit from Skull's point of view. I'm not sure about this chapter, what do you guys think?


	6. Chapter 6

Reborn walked away, his smooth demeanor and neutral face not giving away to passerbys the rabbit thumping of his heart. He came to France looking for Media, as his intel pointed to the country to be the god’s current haunt. He even managed to track them to this city in particular by following the trail of holidaying celebrities (they started having strong opinions on what locations were _In_ ).

When he saw Skull, he didn’t link the the lackey to the god till after he had slunked into the seat and entered a word game for his life. He had been planning on observing the god first, not engaging, and had been caught off guard. 

It was definitely Media. Copying Skull? 

Media, according to his intel, prefers copying dead celebrities to live ones. While Skull is alive, he had been missing from the civilian world, presumed dead, for a while now. Maybe the god didn't know Skull was alive? 

Or maybe it was just fucking with him. 

And the god didn’t change him, didn't manage to rebrand him, Reborn assured himself. He didn’t feel different. His gun still rested comfortably and reassuringly beneath his clothes. He walked into the foyer of the hotel he had booked and thought about his work as a hitman. No revulsion. Still pride at being the world’s greatest. He could take a few hits to reassure himself, make sure his title is still well known.

But… that would be boring.

_But it had been boring for a long time._ That wasn’t a change, that was one of the reasons why he started tutoring in the first place. The elevator dinged and he got out on his floor. He walked to his hotel room. 

Media didn’t change him. He didn't have any drive to go out and save kids. Not pipsqueak Dino, not Dame-Tsuna, not any of his tagalongs, no one. He didn’t fall for Media's word game, perhaps the god really did need agreement from mortals in order to affect them. At least for large changes like a rebranding. 

He got to his room and shut the door with a little more force and usual. There was another angle he wasn’t considering. If Media was pretending to be Skull, where was the real one? Or, he considered as he habitually swept the room for bugs, have they been pretending to be Skull for a long time now? Just... switched out when they weren’t paying attention to a _civilian_ in the _Mafia._

Could Media have faked being cursed, even from Checkerface? Could Checkerface have bound a younger god, make them into a sacrifice the way he did humans?

Reborn’s phone rang. He picked it up and Tsuna’s voice came through the speaker. 

“He-hello Reborn? Fuuta’s gone missing and my intuition said you would be the person to call. Could you come over to the mansion?”

Reborn was silent. 

“Reborn?”

“No.” Reborn replied, monotone. And hung up the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your kind reviews last chapter! A lot of you wanted to know more about what's happening to Reborn / what he is thinking, so this chapter is from his point of view. : )


End file.
